


The Bonfire

by secluded_delusions



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Aftermath of Events in Advent Children/ACC, Barret is an awesome dad and bff and needs more love, Because this is otherwise canon compliant, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Cloud finally grieves, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Clack Only, Light-Hearted, Literally a couple days after ACC, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Slice of Life, apologies for any awkward changes in tense, because him and the gang were too busy otherwise to really stop and let it all out, it's quite, nor has it been realized he hasn't grieved since remembering Zack, so that happens, so that implies that Cloud hasn't really truly grieved even after Aerith's death, sorry - Freeform, this isn't as much as a downer fic as the tags implies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 17:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14958729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secluded_delusions/pseuds/secluded_delusions
Summary: Just two days following the aftermath of the Sephiroth Remnants and Bahamut Sin, Barret, Cloud, and Tifa spend the day with some of the people of Edge cleaning the debris from the Sector 5 Church.  What happens that night isn't at all what Barret was expecting, though he wouldn't trade it away for the world.  Just don't try to get him to admit that.





	The Bonfire

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was inspired from another Gorillaz song [Fire Coming Out of the Monkey's Head](https://youtu.be/JcFZWa8zH2w).
> 
> But, as what usually happens when I write fics, the story evolves in a completely different direction than first intended, and it tends to work out better because of it. I will go into more detail about that at the end for anyone curious.
> 
> Please leave a kudo or a comment if you liked this, even just to say "nice"! Those mean so much to me and I greatly appreciate them - it feeds the creative ego!
> 
> And also, Happy Father's Day!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Barret Wallace stood up straight and stretched his tired muscles.  After everything that has happened yesterday, and now, with Tifa Lockhart and Cloud Strife, helping to clear out the debris from the beloved Sector 5 Church, it’s no wonder Barret’s muscles are stiff.

Even the stolen children, safely returned and cured of Geostigma from Aerith’s healing rain, are doing what they can to help clean, not only Edge itself, but the church as well: pulling little red wagons filled with broken wood and stone, tiny arms carrying what they can; it makes Barret’s heart swell with pride at the strong sense of community and resilience from the people of Gaia, and of Edge especially.  From Meteorfall, to the collapse of not only Midgar, but also Mako Energy, as well as the monopoly of the ShinRa Empire and the entire economy along with it, to Geostigma and those damned Sephiroth Remnants; out from the ashes and rubble of every disaster brought upon them, they’re all survivors rebuilding their lives over and over again.

And Aerith, oh Aerith, she continued to do so much for him and everyone else even when gone; Barret owes her so much, again.  He figured he will be indebted to her for the rest of his life and he’s so grateful for it, though he wouldn’t admit that to anyone.  The day that spiky-headed-ass Cloud starts acting like Yuffie is the day that Barret will admit to himself and to everyone else that he enjoys being a sentimental sap; it’s never gonna happen.  Doesn’t mean he doesn’t get a bit mushy now and then – hard not to sometimes – but he won’t admit it, and everyone just goes along with it.

Glancing over to the entrance of the church, a good thirty feet away, Barret sees Tifa talking to a parent of one of the children, and her waving them goodbye.  He turns back to shovelling stone and concrete into piles, and even over the ruckus of everyone else talking and moving and generally making noise, he cannot hear their exact conversation, but he can hear her sincerely and enthusiastically thanking both parent and child for their help with the church as they leave for the day.

Barret has nothing but admiration for Tifa, and for how hard she tries to keep morale up as high as possible, even when, at times, she can’t even lift her own spirits.  _You’re some kinda lady_ , he once told her a few short years ago in a small hot springs town prone to Lifestream tremors.  Barret doesn’t like dishing out compliments often, so when he does, he means it, and that compliment was well deserved.  Tifa’s the little sister he never had, and watching her grow as a person and overcome obstacles in the face of hopelessness, he has such a fondness for her deep in the marrow of his bones; so yeah, she’s some kinda lady.

Barret was noting the way the sun streaked along the floor through the stain-glass windows and the damage to the roof, thinking to himself that it’s about early evening now, when a raspy accent silenced the ruckus in the church, and he couldn’t help the grin spreading on his face.

“Okay ya bozos, it’s getting late!!”  Cid Highwind projected, his usual light-hearted crass drawing chuckles and giggles from the children as well as the adults, “Thanks a bunch, but that’s enough for today!  Now get the hell outta here and wash up for tonight!!”

 _For tonight?  Is something –_ But that thought was interrupted as Tifa called to Barret, bounding up to him as people were beginning to leave.

“Hey,” she said, and slowed down to stop just a few feet away, dusting her hands off as she approached him, “You done for now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Barret dismissed her with friendly familiarity, “Jes’ lemme put these away first.”  He motioned to his shovel, and to the handful of other tools lying abandoned on the ground in his area when the others started to leave.

“I’ll help,” she said, and before Barret could protest, added with a wink and a quirk of her lips, “It’ll be faster.”

Can’t argue with that.

They quickly picked up the other scattered tools and laid those to rest on one of the still-intact pews nearest to them, and then sauntered their way to the entrance, the events of the day finally wearing the both them down.  Tifa linked her arm around Barret’s as they walked.

Cloud, Denzel, and Marlene, all dirty from the dust of cleaning a partially destroyed church, were sitting on the steps just outside the entrance; the setting sun almost casting them in silhouettes with the edges of their figures softened and glowing orange.  Both Denzel and Marlene were talking animatedly as Cloud watched them in silence, an almost serene expression on his face – which is rare, but a lot had happened in the last couple days.  A lot of which definitely had the greatest impact on Cloud, both good and bad, but there was a sense of closure and finality now, and it had noticeable affects on how Cloud appeared and held himself in its aftermath.

The younger man had stood taller, like he no longer carried the weight of the world and all of its sins three times over on his shoulders anymore; his expression no longer steeled and expressionless – he actually looked almost peaceful.  It wasn’t a bad look, and for all that Barret’s seen that Cloud has been through, he’s happy for that blond pain-in-the-ass – the kid deserves it.

“So what was Cid blabbin’ on ‘bout ‘ _tonight_ ’?” Barret asked, keeping his gaze on Cloud and the children as they drew nearer.

Tifa flicked her hair with an exaggerated motion of her free hand, “Oh? You’ll see.” She flashed a knowing grin, and bumped her shoulder against his.  Barret reciprocated the motion, comfortably resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t press on the matter; a smile on his face as well.  He enjoys surprises, but that’s another thing he’ll take to the grave with him before he’d ever admit to it.

As Barret and Tifa finally reached the entrance to the church, Cloud silently stood up to greet them, and the children followed suit seconds after.

“Papa!” Marlene beamed.  Tifa let go of Barret’s arm just as Marlene ran up to hug him.  Barret squeezed the young girl – his best friend’s orphaned girl, now his girl – tight enough to elicit squeals of laughter from her.  “Papa!  You’re squishing me!”

“Jes’ one more!” Barret squeezed her again for good measure; crouched down to even their heights, and rubbed his whiskers against her face like the many times he’s done before.  Marlene shrieked with laughter again, and squirmed to get out of his grasp and away from his scratchy beard.  Once he let go, Marlene took both Barret’s and Tifa’s hands in her own and swung their arms back and forth, content to be in the company of her most favourite people.

“Ready to go home?” Tifa asked as she looked to Marlene, and then to Denzel, both of whom nodded.  But Denzel, albeit shyly, met Tifa’s eyes with hesitation and spoke softly.

“Um, can… can I ride with Cloud?”

“Aw, Denzel…” Marlene pouted, letting go of Barret’s and Tifa’s hands.

Tifa, keeping her eyes on Denzel, smiled and tipped her chin up towards Cloud, “Why don’t you ask him?”

Denzel turned to face Cloud, but he didn’t speak.  His eyes asked the silent question; pleading.  Cloud nodded, resting his hand on Denzel’s shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze in confirmation.  Marlene approached Denzel and grasped his hand in hers.

“But you said you’d ride back with us!” She protested.

“Marl, I…” Denzel began, but he couldn’t get the rest of his words out; guilt coloured his features and his tongue felt too big for his mouth.  He would end up a stuttering embarrassment if he continued to speak, especially with everyone’s attention on him at once.

“Hey,” Barret knelt down, and turned Marlene towards him, taking her hands in his own, “A person can change they mind.”

Marlene appeared to consider her Papa’s words for a moment before letting go.  “Fine,” she resigned with a sigh, and smiled.  It was forced, but she hoped it would be enough to hide her disappointment.   As she made her way to her Papa’s beat-up truck, she called out behind her, “But you’re sitting with me at supper!”

“Yeah!”  Denzel called out after her, relieved that Marlene didn’t seem too upset with him about his change of heart. 

They all watched as Cloud made his way to his motorcycle and rode it up next to the steps of the church where Denzel waited.  The young boy hopped onto the seat behind Cloud without hesitation, and wrapped his arms around Cloud’s waist.

It wasn’t that Denzel didn’t like spending time with Marlene, on the contrary, but it was rare to spend time with Cloud – the man who saved him from death and starvation, saw his sickness and took him in – when Cloud was out of town most of the time on deliveries.  Cloud was like an older brother, maybe even a sort of unofficial step-father, to Denzel; and oh, how Denzel missed his parents so much when they were killed in the collapse of Sector 7 – years ago now.  He could spend as much time as possible with Marlene, but with Cloud – those moments were precious to him; ephemeral in their significance.

Tifa walked up to the bike, leaned down to kiss Denzel’s hair, and wiped a smudge of dirt off his cheek with her thumb.

“Tifa…” Denzel huffed, embarrassed from the affection, though not ungrateful; just not used to it.  Tifa was always doting on him, much like a mother would, and during the time he lived on his own without his parents, he’d grown used to a lack of physical affection from anyone; it was a bit overwhelming at times from Tifa. 

She smiled apologetically at Denzel, and turned towards Cloud, resting her hand on his forearm, “You boys be safe, okay?”

Denzel nodded.  Cloud hummed in confirmation, “You three as well.”  With a rev of his bike, they were off, heading home.

Tifa watched them go until they disappeared from sight, and then headed towards Barret’s little truck, climbing into the passenger side once Marlene shifted into the middle seat.

“Oh, those boys…” Tifa sighed. 

“What?” Barret asked, curious.

“I worry about them.”

“They’ll be alright.” Marlene held Tifa’s hand.  Tifa squeezed in response. 

“Denzel reminds me so much of Cloud when he was 14,” Tifa stared out the passenger window, reminiscing of her and Cloud’s childhood, and how awkward and withdrawn Cloud was, though to be honest, he still is.  “As much as I love Cloud, and Denzel too, I think I’ll lose it if Denzel grows up to be another Cloud…” 

Barret threw his head back in a burst of laughter from her blunt statement, the kind of laughter that is loud and comes deep from the belly.  Tifa blinked in response, caught off-guard from Barret’s reaction.  Marlene hid her smirk with her hand, though her cheeks were pink from holding back.

Tifa, with a slight frown, defensive, asked, “What?  Cloud can be a pain, sometimes!  You, Barret, should know that as well as I do.” 

That only seemed to make the other two laugh even harder, and Tifa flushed with embarrassment. 

Barret wiped the tears forming in the corners of his eyes, a huge grin on his face, “You said it, Tif, not me!” 

Tifa fell silent, her mouth opened and closed a few times.  She crossed her arms and looked back out the passenger window so they couldn’t see her shame. 

“S’okay,” Barret consoled, after having calmed down, “I ain’t gonna judge ya.  ‘M sure Spiky wouldn’t, neither, an’ he might even agree wit’ ya.”

Marlene nodded. 

That seemed to placate Tifa somewhat.  She unfolded her arms and stared straight ahead, a frown no longer on her face.  He was probably right about that. 

“Wanna get the shift for me, Marl?” Barret asked, hoping to lighten the mood with the change of topic.

“Yes!” Marlene’s face lit up, and Tifa made sure everyone’s seatbelts were secure.

Barret looked at Marlene expectantly, “What do I gotta do first?”  

“Umm…” Marlene thought for a moment, “… you gotta hit the clutch.”

“Nuh-uh.  Gotta make sure the ‘mergency brake is on, then...” Barret reminded, checking the emergency brake.

“Then the clutch!” She clapped her hands together, as Barret nodded, “Then, it’s gotta be in neutral…” 

“Yep,” 

“Turn it on, and then…  I put it in first!” She exclaimed, triumphantly.  Barret turned the key in the ignition as Marlene moved the shift into first gear.

“And …?” Barret asked, but Marlene was silent, her face puzzling, trying to remember the next steps, her tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration.

 “You gotta brake, right?” she asked, “To… to release the _emergency_ brake...?” A smile grew on her face as she watched her Papa do just that.

“Oh!  And check your mirrors!” She piped up, and Barret made sure to check the rear-view and side mirrors. 

“Now this’s the tricky part,” Barret said as he looked right at Marlene, all serious, “I gotta take my foot _offa_ the clutch _as_ I step on th’ gas.” 

Soon they were driving towards Tifa’s bar and their shared home, Seventh Heaven.  The mood significantly elevated and more relaxed.

“When you can reach the pedals, I’ll let ya sit behind th’ wheel,” Barret promised as they got farther and farther from the church, “G’job, Marl.”

Marlene was glowing with pride.

 

 

The sun had finally just set once Barret made his way down the stairs, having taken a quick shower and changed into some clean clothes he had brought with him.  He was staying in Edge for a few days, in one of the spare rooms above Seventh Heaven, to visit with Marlene and Cloud, Tifa, and now Denzel, too. 

Not even a week ago, Barret and his crew had found oil on the Western Continent, a potential resource to replace Mako Energy, so he had decided to take some time off work to celebrate and share the news.  Cloud and Tifa were gracious enough to look after Marlene while Barret was away, after Elmyra Gainsborough was taken by Geostigma; two more debts added onto Barret’s list.  Barret can only hope to do right by everyone, and to help them all out as much as he can as some small measure of repayment for what they’ve all done for him. 

Muffled voices filled the air as Barret neared the bottom of the stairs, and as he turned down the hallway and pushed through the door to that lead to the bar, those same voices were loud and jovial.  Barret thought they all would have left by now, but whole gang was there.  Vincent Valentine, looking as statuesque as ever, wearing the same outfit he always wore while everyone else changed their clothes regularly, though he at least shed his tattered red cape tonight.  He was conversing quietly with Cloud about something. 

Not far from them was Yuffie Kisaragi, as loud and rambunctious, and as endearingly obnoxious as ever; entertaining some poor patron with some elaborate story using wild arm gestures.  There’s Cid Highwind, cursing up a storm as usual, with a half-lit cigarette clenched between his teeth, complaining about one thing or another to his fiancée, Shera, as Tifa handed them both a couple of drinks. 

Reeve Tuesti was sitting at a table with Cait Sith in his lap, Nanaki sitting on the floor next to him, with Marlene and Denzel occupying the other chairs at the same table, talking to the both of them; Marlene occasionally scratched Nanaki behind his ears as Denzel poked and prodded at Cait Sith with curiosity.

Seeing everyone’s faces made Barret’s heart swell and ache pleasantly; everyone whom he shared many hardships with in these last few years; whom he shared a fondness for in his heart as they all do for him and for each other.  There’s something about bonds formed with comrades in trying times: you end up seeing the worst of them, but with that, everything is laid open and bare – there’s that brutal honesty that comes with it, and you end up trusting them even more because of it, because they’ve all seen you at your worst as well; a mutual understanding and kinship forms. 

Hell, even the three Turks: Reno, Rude, and Elena, are there as well – the constant pains in Barret’s ass as long as there was Avalanche – conversing with some of the other patrons.  The only person missing, of course, was Aerith Gainsborough, though Barret liked to think her spirit may still be with them occasionally; left the Lifestream to join them for a night, perhaps.  He said a silent prayer for her, and walked up to the bar for a drink from Tifa.

“What’s all this?” Barret asked Tifa over the chatter as he took swig of the beer she gave him.

“Well, everyone thought they’d come by.” Tifa said cryptically, and shrugged. 

“Uh huh,” he grinned as he side-eyed Tifa, “’Kay, don’t tell me, then.”

Just as Barret polished off his drink, Yuffie stood up on one of the tables, and clapped her hands loudly for attention.  “Okay!  Now that everyone’s here, let’s head out to the square!” 

Everyone stood up and started making their way through the entrance of Seventh Heaven, towards the square where the monument to Meteor had once stood – destroyed and reduced to a pile of rubble thanks to the Remnants and Bahamut Sin – just two days ago.

As Barret exited the bar and stepped into the cooling evening air outside – it had grown dark rather quickly.  The stars were shining bright, and there were even aurora borealis in the distance towards the north – he could see a large makeshift fire-pit near the now neatly-contained-pile of-rubble of the monument, with many tables, chairs, and stools surrounding the pit.  Poles were set up around the perimeter of the tables, with lanterns hanging from them, giving soft, warm lighting.  Lots of people were already crowding – children and adults, many of whom were helping with the church today – murmuring with excitement, and as Barret got closer to the gathering, he noticed the tables were covered with food and drink of all sorts. 

“So, this’s what Cid meant by ‘ _tonight_ ’, huh.” Barret said to Tifa, a statement of observation than a question; taking it all in.

Barret noticed the table where Denzel and Marlene were sitting at, and upon seeing Barret and Tifa, Marlene waved them over, so Barret and Tifa made their way to the children and sat down in the seat across from them.

It wasn’t much longer until everyone else was seated, and conversation had quieted.  Reeve stood up from where he was sitting, and cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention.  Silence fell over the crowd as all eyes turned to look at him, and all that could be heard was the gentle crackle and snap of the fire.

“Good evening everyone,” he spoke loud and leisurely, so they all could hear him, “I’d like to thank you all on behalf of the World Regenesis Organization for all of your patience, grace, and help in dealing with the aftermath of the Sephiroth Remnants.”

There were a few murmurs from the crowd, to which Reeve let finish before speaking,  “We, the WRO and myself, as well as the members of Avalanche,” he gestured to where Barret, Cloud, and the other members of Avalanche were sitting, and he added with a genuine smile as he raised his other hand towards Reno, Rude, and Elena, “and the Turks as well, for all of their help in clearing up the streets, distributing donations, and giving shelter to those in need as quickly and efficiently as possible while reparations are made.”  A polite applause quietly sounded from the people.

“And as thanks,” Reeve continued, “the WRO has reached out to a number of farmers in the region to give all of you this feast we are about to partake in.  We’ve also sourced some local talent for our entertainment, as well.  So without further ado, please, enjoy.”

Another round of applause erupted, though this was more enthusiastic as chatter filled the air and people started digging into the food on their tables; hungry from another hard days’ work.

 

 

As the evening went on, so did the entertainment: from singers and musicians, to comedians, dancers, and stunt performers. 

“’M gonna get myself more punch, anyone needa refill?”  Barret offered, tipping his empty cup towards them.

Tifa, Marlene, and Denzel all shook their heads no, and continued to watch in trepidation with bated breath as a man in a clown outfit juggled butcher’s knives.  So Barret, with empty cup in hand, quietly excused himself from their table and made his way to one of the banquet tables that served various bowls of punch and other assorted drinks, and grabbed a ladle from one of the bowls, pouring more of that sweet, pink, sparkling juice into his cup.  He downed it in one gulp, and went to refill again when Cloud approached him, looking to get another drink for himself as well.

Barret held out the ladle to Cloud, to which Cloud politely declined.  “Suit yerself,” Barret shrugged, putting the ladle back into the bowl and taking a swig from his cup, watching as Cloud poured himself some water from a dispenser.

They both leaned against the table, and watched the juggler continue with his act.  Loud gasps broke from the crowd as the juggler’s assistant tossed a chain-saw to their partner, and the juggler worked it seemingly effortlessly into his routine.  Claps resounded, some people whistled.  Barret couldn’t help the smile forming on his face, and he looked to Cloud, wondering what the young man’s reaction would be. 

Cloud has never been known for being generally expressive, and though his face was relaxed, those glowing blue eyes were a giveaway: they were completely transfixed.  Cloud may have hardly shown much emotion on his face in the two years that Barret has known him, but his eyes – his eyes express more than his face has ever needed to.  It was with that glint in his eyes that Cloud looked more like a 16 year old kid than the 23 year old young man he is.

Barret feels some pity for Cloud, knowing Cloud has never really had much of a chance to be a kid when he was one, what with all the trauma he’s been through and having to grow up fast because of it, so it’s nice to see that same kind of youthful wonder and fascination reflected in those eyes from as something as simple as a man juggling dangerous objects.  But there isn’t anything the two of them can do about the past – it can’t be changed no matter how much you may want to – just gotta accept it and keep going.  _There ain’t no getting offa this train_.

Both Cloud and Barret stand side by side in companionable silence, sipping their drinks and watching the entertainer, as well as the reactions from the crowd before them, all of them surrounding a roaring fire and enjoying one another’s company.  The whole scene tugged at something deep in Barret’s chest and brought forth a bittersweet nostalgia that clenched at his heart.  It reminded him of his early days in Avalanche with Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie, all together around the Cosmo Flame in Cosmo Canyon and sharing their biggest hopes and dreams and personal fears.  And then again, with the newest generation of Avalanche, with Tifa, Cloud, Aerith, and the others, again in Cosmo Canyon sitting at that same grand fire when they were searching for Sephiroth those two years ago.  There’s something about sitting around a fire under the stars that gets people to open up – it can feel intimate even when you’re surrounded by many others.

“Barret,” Cloud said suddenly.  Barret returned his gaze to Cloud, though Cloud was still looking ahead, then, quietly, as if embarrassed, “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Shoot,” Barret took another drink from his cup.

Cloud was quiet for a moment in concentration, looking down at his own drink as if trying to form the proper words in his head; his brow twitched slightly.  He almost looked uncomfortable, like he would get in trouble for asking.

“Do you still think about Myrna?” he asked eventually. 

Barret’s hand stopped before his cup reached his lips.  That wasn’t what he was expecting, but then again, Cloud has never been predictable with anything he’s ever said, or did for that matter.  _Just when you thought he was cool, he’d do some damn fool thing; then just when you thought he was smart, he’d show you how stupid he was,_ Cid had once said with endearing exasperation to Tifa about Cloud, when Cloud was temporarily lost to the Lifestream.  The opposite of both was just as true.

“Shi-” Barret smiled, nudging his elbow against Cloud’s arm, chuckling to himself, “ _that’s_ what ya wanted to ask?  Hell, dunno what I thought it was gonna be but it sure shit ain’t that!”

Cloud’s face flushed, and he shifted on his feet awkwardly.  “Sorry,” Cloud ducked his head down.

“Ain’t gotta be, I was jes’ buggin’ ya.” Barret turned to look back towards the crowd, silhouettes against the light of the bonfire as their warped shadows danced on the ground in time with it.  “Hell yeah, I think ‘bout her all th’ damn time.”

“Tell me about her?”

Barret took a deep breath, exhaling slowly; millions of thoughts and memories running through his head: good, bad, happy, upsetting – but mostly good.  Cloud waited patiently at his right, and both were gazing at the scene in front of them.  It was easier to talk about things like this without direct eye contact, even when the pain wasn’t fresh and didn’t hurt as much as it used to.  Where to even begin?

“Well, ‘fore I ‘dopted Marlene, Myrna was the light of my life.” Barret could feel the familiar tension behind his eyes, the beginnings of tears forming, threatening to spill.  He blinked them back, and took another deep inhale.  “She always saw th’ best in folks, an’ was always wantin’ to help those in need.  Tha’s part of why I asked her t’ marry me.”

A wide smile creased the corners of Barret’s eyes and he puffed his chest out proudly, “But she also didn’t take no shit from no one!  She’d put you in yer place if she thought you was outta line!  Hell, she gave me a what-for more n’ once since we was together when she knew I was in th’ wrong.” 

But then out of the corner of Cloud’s eye, he saw Barret deflate, causing Cloud to glance at up him.  Cloud’s face didn’t show any concern, though those blue eyes definitely expressed worry.

“I regret it took me so long to realize why I was wrong.  I always made shit out to be ‘bout my damn self, when it never was t’ begin with.  My damn pride couldn’t let shit go.  That’s what we mostly fought about when we did fight.  I said lotsa things I ain’t proud of.  But in th’ end, we always forgave each other.  She made me wanna be a better person because of how ‘mazing she was as a person.”

“Did she… did you two ever want kids?”

“Yeah,” Barret looked over to the table where Tifa, Marlene, and Denzel were sitting, focussing on both Denzel’s and Marlene’s silhouettes with fondness, “Yeah, we talked ‘bout it on more n’ one occasion.  Both knew we wasn’t ready yet, but she always wanted two or three.  She loved kids, n’ kids loved her.” He then gestured towards Marlene and Denzel, “An’ if she was still alive, she’da took t’ them two like damn a Moogle to a Kupo Nut!” He laughed at the comparison, amused, but there was a touch of bitterness to it. 

“How did she die?” Cloud asked, hesitantly.

“Well…” And with a sharp inhale, a tear managed to escape and roll down Barret’s cheek, though he was quick to wipe it away.  “She was chronically ill.  She was fine most days.  Other days it was bad.  Lotsa trips to th’ clinic, ‘spensive medicines, we was just getting by, but she ain’t never let it get her down.  Always had her head up, that woman – always fightin’.  But one day,” Barret sighed and slumped his shoulders, “guess she couldn’t fight no longer.”

“How do you get over something like that?” Cloud asked Barret with utmost sincerity in his voice, like he wanted to know the secrets to the universe, as if he was asking for himself.

Barret pondered for a moment in silence, then looked directly at Cloud, “Ya don’t.” 

Cloud stared back, his eyes shown he was taken aback from the blunt answer, but expecting more and knowing this wasn’t all of it.  “I don’t think anyone ever really gets over anything.  It jes’ hurts less over time, so ya jes’ gotta deal with it day by day.  Accept it happened.  Not a day goes by I don’t miss her.  Or wish she was still ‘round.  But it is what it is.”

Barret watched as Cloud mulled his words over in that spiky head of his, whom was staring down into his near empty cup, before asking, “Why?  This ‘bout Aerith?”

The corners of Cloud’s lips twitched upwards for a moment, an almost-smile with somber eyes still staring into that cup.  “Not quite.  Yes, but no.”  Barret was silent, waiting for Cloud to explain.

“Yes,” Cloud began, “But not in the same sense is this about Aerith for me as it was about Myrna with you.”

“Uh,” Barret said, not quite a question, though he wasn’t quite getting at what Cloud was saying.

An actual smile, albeit small and shy, formed on Cloud’s face, “Zack.”

Oh.  _Oh._   Right.  Barret almost forgot about _him_.  When Cloud mentioned Zack it was two years ago aboard the Highwind, shortly after him and the rest of Avalanche recovered Cloud and Tifa from the Lifestream when it erupted back in that little hot springs town.  And that was the only time Zack was mentioned during Cloud’s confession after recovering his memories.  No wonder Barret forgot about the man.

“Right after the Healing Rain, when we were all in the church with the children,” Cloud looked up at Barret, hope shining in those eyes, “I saw them.  They forgave me,” but then his eyes clouded over with sadness, “even though I let them die, even though I failed them, even though I never had a chance to tell them how much they meant… still mean, to me.  Even when I don’t feel like I deserve it.”

Barret put his hand on Cloud’s shoulder and squeezed, knowing those feelings of regret, inadequacy and unworthiness.  Feeling like you didn’t do all that you could so the people you loved died because of it, and the guilt that comes with it.  Sins everyone has about one thing or another.

“I do feel a lot better, my heart… it feels lighter knowing they don’t hold it against me for any of it, but…” a shaky exhale escaped as Cloud tried to compose himself, “It still hurts.  I loved Aerith, but not like you loved Myrna.  That love was always for Zack, even when I couldn’t remember him, which hurts even more.  I told him I wouldn’t forget him and I failed even that.  So how do you get over something like that.” Cloud stated, not asking, already knowing Barret’s answer to that question.

This was the most Cloud has opened up to anyone since he was recovered from the Lifestream, and certainly the most he’s said to Barret specifically.  But Cloud knew Barret would understand because Barret’s been through it already.  It was a lot to take in and unpack, and Barret didn’t know what else to say, so he opened up his arms.  Cloud just stared at him, a little lost and unsure.

“C’mere.”  Barret said tenderly, and Cloud hesitantly stepped forward so Barret could wrap Cloud into a tight hug.  Marlene is the only person Barret will get openly affectionate towards, but Cloud needs some comfort from someone who’s been there before, so dammit, Cloud is getting a hug.  _So much for not showing how sentimental you can be, huh?_

After a few seconds, Cloud finally hugged Barret in return, shoulders heaving a little from the confession.

“Let it out if you got to.  All of us got time t’ grieve now.”

As if that was the cue Cloud was waiting for the whole time since he was first hired on as a mercenary for Avalanche, a quite cry broke out from the young man.  He clutched at Barret’s shirt, his body shaking with silent sobs, holding back because of the people around them and not wanting to cause a scene, and Barret squeezed him just a little tighter.  Applause had erupted, causing Barret to look over towards the fire and the crowd.  The juggler and his assistant thanked everyone, and began to pack up their things.  Some people started to leave already, others staying to help clean things up.

He looked back over to the table where Tifa, Marlene, and Denzel were sitting, and then saw Tifa look back towards them.  He just gave her a thumbs up, and she nodded in response, standing and ushering the kids to help her with clean up and give them some more time.

When it seemed like Cloud was calming down, Barret pulled back a bit, his hands on Cloud’s shoulders.  “Feel better?”

A small chuckle escaped Cloud’s lips, and he wiped his eyes and nose with the backs of his hands; eyes red and starting to swell from crying, “A little.”

“People are starting clean up.  Get your spikey-headed ass on home and sleep.”  Barret said a little brusquely to break up the intimacy with friendly casualty.

“No,” Cloud protested, sniffling, “I should help with clean up.”

“Nah, we good here, got lotsa folks helpin’ an’ you done more than ‘nough th’ last coupla days.”  Barret said firmly, gesturing to the people around them cleaning up garbage, food scraps, dishes and cutlery.  “Get yo ass outta here!” He affirmed with authoritative assertiveness, though Barret’s grin ruined that façade.

Cloud resigned, another rare, small, and appreciative smile gracing his features, “If you insist, but you’re not the leader of Avalanche anymore, so don’t order me around.”  And Cloud walked back to the entrance of Seventh Heaven, leaving Barret to balk slightly from that sass.

When Cloud finally reached the bar, Tifa jogged up to Barret, concern clearly marring her face, her dark honey-brown eyes wide with worry.  “Is everything alright?  What happened to Cloud?”

“Yeah, he’s okay.  Nothin’ he can’t handle.” Barret said with a knowing confidence.  “Just had a chat is all.”

“Okay.” Tifa sighed deeply with relief.  “He looked quite upset, I was worried.”

“’M sure he’ll tell ya when he’s good n’ ready.” Barret walked up beside Tifa and stood close to her so their arms touched, to offer some comfort to the young woman.  He looked down at her and smiled reassuringly, “Now let’s help these folk clean this shit up.”

Tifa laughed softly, and said, “You got it.”

**Author's Note:**

> When I first wrote this story, the beginning part in the church was going to stay the same, and then, either at a bonfire inside or near the church, or in Edge (like the square where the monument to Meteor was), there was going to be dinner and entertainment much like I had wrote. But then Barret was going to be egged on by Marlene to tell a story, and that story would be in a similar vein to the Gorillaz Fire Coming Out of the Monkey's Head, and it was going to be about Jenova and how it decimated The City of the Ancients, and I had that little fable partially written out as I was writing this one, but then this story changed direction and became about Cloud asking for wisdom and advice from Barret about dealing with loss of a loved one (Zack) instead. And I just liked that much better than my original idea for this story.


End file.
